


Art at the Treatment Center

by withinmelove



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Gallows Humor, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-30 00:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11451816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withinmelove/pseuds/withinmelove
Summary: Kieren doesn't commit suicide and Amy doesn't die from her leukemia. It's only Simon who still dies and becomes the Undead. Instead Kieren is an art student from the local uni coming into the treatment center to draw the Undead. Simon is fatefully assigned to be his model.





	1. Undead Strangers

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to moregeousbdffs (on tumblr) for beta'ing this monster for me. It has been a long labor of love.  
> clay-air (on tumblr) thank you for all your lovely In The Flesh artwork.

Kieren swallows; his mouth has turned to cotton. God, why did he ever agree to this? No amount of money is worth walking into a den of rabids or, for that fact, drawing chained up ones. However, here he is going into a treatment center to do just that. All for a chance to enter his drawings of the Undead to a textbook company. Many of his classmates have also been swayed by how lucrative the deal will be. For every book printed with their work they’ll be paid for each copy. Easy to see how quickly the money will add up. Now with their destination drawing up fast, the bus is filled with buzzing tension. No more bragging about what someone will do if one of the rabids come at them. _Speak about it and there’s a chance it might happen._

Miss Clay-Air, their art teacher, seems not to be troubled by such fears. No doubt due to the fact from the moment she got the go ahead with this insane project she’s been excited at the prospect. 

Right now, she’s in her scolding mother mode.

“Now remember, the Undead we’re drawing have been medicated for a month so I don’t want to hear any mention of “rabid” in the center, the bus, or in my classroom.” Her gaze drills into every one of them. “They’ve suffered enough.” 

The effect of her reprimand is weakened by their arrival at the treatment center.

Kieren’s mouth drops open as they wait at the fenced entrance for clearance to go in. The gray washed out place is _massive_ , not to mention topped with so much barbwire it must have cost half their budget. All the guns on the heavily armored guards explain where the other half has gone to. The inside of the blocky place is no more welcoming than the outside. Harsh fluorescent lights drain color while highlighting the amount of dust swirling through the air. One of the girls starts wheezing, her friend complaining that all this dust is irritating her asthma. How the hell is anyone able to work in these conditions, let alone have them drawing in it?

The group of stone faced guards don’t say a word in response just herd them all into an office stuffed with files. Many are sprayed across the desk, towering piles atop the filing cabinets, and filling the only two chairs in the room. No doubt all these belong to the rabids - _people_ \- here but Kieren doesn’t get time to wonder why everything is so slap-dash before two men come bustling in. They shake hands, grinning as if they’re closing a business deal, not welcoming terrified college kids into a prison of Undead. He finds he doesn’t much care for their car salesman persona. Too fast for Kieren to catch, they introduce themselves and the fact they had been the ones to make the drug to bring the Undead their minds back.

“Please don’t hesitate to ask us any questions about the facility or your assigned PDS sufferer.” The blond one smiles while his partner passes out the files on the desk. Kieren frowns when he opens the folder he’s been handed. _Simon Monroe_ is neatly printed on the front of the manila envelope. These – these look like medical files but - no…riffling through the rather thick stack of pages reveal this folder contains everything this rabid had done his entire life.

 _Simon Arthur Monroe_ flashes past on a birth certificate, a rap sheet heavily dosed with drug charges, mugshots with a dead eyed man –

“Excuse me,” The blond man looks at Kieren eyebrows raised expectantly, “Why did you give us their files? Isn’t this kind of stuff supposed to be confidential?”

“Come off it Kieren, they’re dead.” Jay, his fellow classmate, laughs, pushing Kieren’s shoulder. “Besides don’t you want to see what your rabi -” Miss Clay-Air’s razor eyes are on Jay in an instant “– your _sufferer_ is like? Mine’s a little girl named Nancy. Christ, died when she was seven.” Jay leans against him, attempting to look at Simon’s folder.

“How old’s yours? Are those police records?” His voice sounds gleeful at the thought, his hand held out to take a rap sheet. Jay’s invasive curiosity shouldn’t get under his skin as much as it does - he doesn’t owe Simon any privacy - but Jay’s callousness gets to him. So Kieren shakes his head as he closes the folder, tucking it under his arm.

“He’s thirty-two with _lots_ of parking tickets.” At once Jay’s interest evaporates. He gives a sagely nod as if that explains everything.

“Sucks to hear you got a boring one.” Kieren shrugs with a wan smile, more than relieved when Miss Clay-Air calls for their attention.

“Everyone, it’s time. You’ll be paired off with your guard and taken to your PDS sufferer,” she says brightly. Kieren’s heart starts to gallop, stomach acid gnawing at him as his classmates fall in line to be paired. At the door, a blond guard nods to him in greeting, a know-it-all smile on her face.

“So how much are they going to pay?” She asks as they move off further into the center. Kieren gets the distinct impression she thinks this is a joke.

“Nothing unless our drawings get picked. How much do they pay you?” It must be a lot considering she has to work inside this dreary, filthy place. It had been a prison before being a treatment center, but the lack of even a pretense of cleanliness shocks him. It doesn’t send a message of caring about the Undead when their center is a hovel.

A smug “Seventeen pounds an hour.” pulls Kieren from his wandering thoughts. His wide eyes make her preen even more. “Still a shite job but the money is great and a taser works like a charm on them. Here’s your sufferer,” She glances at the number painted on the door. “Got Simon, lucky you, he’s the quiet one around here.” Kieren shifts his weight from one foot to the other feeling as if he is going to pee himself from nerves.

“You’re _sure_ he’s under control?” he asks. Anything to prolong having to go in there by himself.

She rolls his eyes at his delay tactic. The job pays her to babysit corpses, not stupid kids who sign up to draw them. 

“We give them their Neurotriptyline an hour before anyone arrives. However, yours wouldn’t listen to me when I told him not to wear his mousse or contacts. Acts like that does anything to cover what he is,” Mary mutters, unlocking the door before she gestures for him to go in. No way out of it now, cautiously Kieren enters the room, stomach twisting when the door closes behind him.

The rabid, no - not that, _PDS sufferer_ , sits silently in a metal chair watching him put both the folder and his drawstring backpack on the table. Kieren himself tries not to stare in return. What makes that difficult is that Simon has coated every visible part of himself with mousse. His face, neck, hands, even the entirety of his ears. He has applied it so liberally it looks like he’s gone almost orange. It is clear, too, that Simon has attempted to look presentable with his hair combed back, slicked down to a neat part with water. The only normal part of him is his eyes which are light blue. 

But his neat appearance can’t take away the fact that there are handcuffs around his wrists and ankles anchoring him to the chair. Kieren clears his throat as he takes a seat, unpacking his supplies and chancing glances at Simon as he does so. 

He had expected his sufferer to be disfigured from his time as a rabid. It only makes sense that, while in that mindless state, he would get cuts from being outdoors, and from any possible run-ins with the Human Volunteer Force or well-armed civilians. By many miracles, though, he’s fairly unharmed. Perhaps the wounds that never heal are beneath his clothes? If not for the fact Simon’s one of the Undead, he would be rather handsome, and the unbidden thought disturbs Kieren. Who in their right mind would call the Undead attractive? 

He tries to push that idea away by introducing himself. 

“I’m Kieren, and I’m from the uni for art class. Well - I mean - to draw you for art class not…you know…” He trails off uncomfortably, mouth leached once again of spit. If Simon does know or not he gives no indication, his eyes merely trained upon him. 

The back of Kieren’s neck heats as he ducks his eyes back to his sketch pad. When Mary had said Simon was the most quiet one, he had not guessed she meant literally. For the next two hours he works in silence, soon too concentrated on his work to be bothered by the fact Simon isn’t chatty. The quietness is somewhat nice. Simon doesn’t feel the need to make small talk nor does he expect it and…that is less stressful.

By the time lunch break is called he’s happy for the stopping point, shaking out his hand and massaging his fingers. A full portfolio is expected for this possible deal with the textbook company, so that means drawing from every possible angle. Miss Clay-Air had warned them all they would be working up until the last second in order to fulfill this. A glance to Simon as the chair he sits in creaks, metal on metal jangling while he shifts into a more comfortable position. 

“You didn’t have to keep still the entire time,” Kieren can’t help smiling at him, hoping maybe it will warm him up a bit. It’s going to be a very long twelve weeks if Simon continues to stay this silent. “You’re still allowed to move.”

Simon gives a disbelieving blink. He rattles the cuffs at his wrists. Kieren wants to be swallowed up by the floor. Why, why did he say that? Possibly the poorest choice of words he could have picked. 

“Come on, Walker!” Mary raps hard on the door, “You either eat your lunch now or not at all.” It’s clear her feelings are that the students are being coddled enough as it is. Kieren stands, hesitating, caught between going to lunch and apologizing for his ignorant comments. However, Mary takes care of that for him by finally holding the door open, impatiently gesturing for him to leave. 

“Do I need to walk you down there myself?” 

Heat stings Kieren’s cheeks, of course, the perfect time for blushing. He shakes his head and follows after her, Simon’s eyes on the back of his neck like prickles. 

“So, how did you like your first experience with the medicated Undead?” She inquires, bad mood evaporated now that he’s doing what she wants. Kieren bites the inside of his cheek, considers not answering her. Mary’s been nothing but abrasive to the point of rudeness. Why should he have to act nice? Oh right, she’s going to be his guard for the entire school year. He can’t afford to irritate her.

“Fine.” 

Well if he has to answer he’s not going to be chatty. However, Mary doesn’t appear to care anymore about his reply. She’s hailing her coworkers who are also leading his classmates to lunch. Rather, they could be prisoners with all this security on them. Jay is thankfully too preoccupied with their other classmates to come ask questions. Judging by the wild hand gestures and pointing to himself Jay would terrify anyone about his sufferer. Poor little girl. 

Lunch is just brown bags with cafeteria food. Silly, but the surprise of two biscuits has Kieren smiling. Amy’s work, for which he’s grateful. The others who come to sit with him, away from Jay’s speculations of sufferers going rabid, are quiet. They’re lost in their own reflections of the day so far. The touch of a hand on his shoulder startles him, fright needling his stomach as he looks up to see it’s only Ms. Clay-Air.

“How are you finding all this, Kieren?” 

What can he say? Overwhelming, humiliating, with a heaping sense of guilt for his luck of being on the other side of the room? He doesn’t deserve to sit here having lunch while Simon is locked away waiting for his purpose to come back. Instead he forces a thin smile. 

“New and uh - _different_.” He can admit that much without being cruel. Crazy as Ms. Clay-Air is to have even thought of this, she’s dedicated all of her time and influence to make this available to them. Kieren’s still in awe of all the strings she must have pulled. His words bring a smile to her face as she squeezes his shoulder. 

“Thank you for being sweet, Kieren. I know this is unsettling to say the least, but you’re doing amazing work for these sufferers and medical science.” Ms. Clay-Air’s eyes warms as she speaks, her conviction shining through. The hope in her tone brightens his spirits. Maybe he _can_ help Simon by being his outside contact to the world. It’s with that thought their lunch recess is called to an end. Quickly, Kieren wraps up his two biscuits, squirreling them away in his hoodie’s pocket. If he was in Simon’s place he would most certainly miss sweets. The guards are without a doubt the last people to offer such luxuries. 

Nerves boil in his stomach as he walks back, paying no mind to Mary. He’s so antsy by the time they’re back, he goes right over to Simon and presents the biscuits. 

“I didn’t see the guards - well the ones with us - bring you anything, so I thought, y’know, you’d like something sweet. I know I’d miss sweets - so anyways -,” He stumbles swallowing against his dry throat .“They’re just snickerdoodle.” Sweat dampens his armpits as Simon’s eyes dart, with wariness, to the sweets - his face - back to the biscuits. Kieren’s tongue clicks audibly when he opens his mouth. “If you want them, of course.” 

Before he can go sit down burning with embarrassment, Simon reaches up as much as the cuffs will let him and holds out his hand. 

_He wants the biscuits._

Relief is a cool breeze. Kieren smiles and, without their fingers touching, sets the wrapped bundle in Simon’s palm. For a moment all he does is look at the sweets, eyeing the sugar liberally sprinkled on them. He lifts them close to his nose, inhaling deeply their fragrance, but doesn’t take a bite. Just smells the pastries like they're flowers. Kieren returns to his seat disturbed by the reaction. 

How long has it been since he’s had actual food? Maybe the guards only feed the sufferers a couple times a week? The thought of _what_ makes his lunch nearly come back up. Surely now that the sufferers are medicated they don’t eat flesh anymore. He forcefully pushes the thought aside. Right now he just needs to focus on getting his sketches done for the day. There’s little time for the huge portfolio needed at the end of the year. 

Once again he works away in silence Simon now staring at the biscuits. 

A sharp rap on the door let’s Kieren know there are five minutes left before it’s time to get back on the bus. Onto the table his sketchbook and pencils go before he shakes out his hands glad for the reprieve. He gathers his supplies and shoulders on his backpack. There’s a beat of uncomfortable indecision pinging at him while Simon watches the biscuits, still uneaten, sitting on his thigh.

“See you on Thursday?” A solemn nod in answer and Kieren’s out the door.

\--

“Tell me everything!” Kieren looks over from his place at his desk. Amy’s in his doorway, a wide grin on her face. No surprise that she knows he’s back minutes after his arrival. The entire student body knew their schedule - apparent by the fact a crowd of students had mobbed them coming off the bus, openly demanding to see the sufferers’ records from fellow friends. Miss Clay-Air was upset by this blatant disrespect from both her own students and the mob, but powerless to deny them. There were no rules about sharing a dead person’s information. 

Unlike the rest of the students, Amy’s genuine excitement is in seeing him, not just his experience at the center.

A second year student like he is, they had been in the co-ed dorms together as freshmen. Admittedly when Kieren had first seen her he’d been too shy to approach Amy, with her vivacious personality. Lucky for him that she spotted him moments later and from that moment on they had bonded into tight friends. She’s never far from him, and, though he doesn’t say it aloud, Kieren loves her constant presence. 

After Amy has hugged him for a good minute, she flops onto his funton, the full skirt of her dress slowly settling around her. 

“So what’s Mr. or Mrs. Zombie like? Are their eyes creepy? What is the facility like?” She asks, eyes sparking at the thought of a near death experience. 

“He’s a mister and,” here Kieren adopts his best snooty tone, “it’s PDS sufferer now. Zombie is so archaic.” She flaps her hand dismissively before rolling onto her side to face him hand propping up her head.

“Come on, Kier, you’re holding out on me! What was your _sufferer_ like? I’ve been waiting to hear since you left this morning!” He holds up his hands. 

“Okay - okay, I’ll tell you but no calling him Mr. Zombie. His name is Simon.” Amy gives a solemn nod and if there’s one person who will treat Simon normal Kieren knows it’ll be her, Undead or not. He takes a breath in before he lets it out and starts his story. Unsurprisingly, when he gets to the part about receiving Simon’s life file, Amy is bewildered. 

“They gave you his _birth certificate_?!” 

He nods, fiddling with a rubber band from his desk. 

“Everything on him. Police, dental, medical records. Probably his national insurance card too but I didn’t check.” Amy looks aghast at the idea. He’s glad he’s not the only one. 

“I would’ve slapped you, Kieren, if you did.” A weak chuckle escapes him. No doubt she would have. Inquisitive as she can be, Amy does know when to draw the line.

“You’ll have to slap the entire campus then. Not a lot of kids from class feel the same way.”

Amy’s mouth is a displeased line. It only lasts a moment before she bolts upright, indignant at being distracted.

“Tell me what Simon’s like! You promised you would!” 

Here, Kieren bites the inside of his cheek. He shrugs. “He’s quiet.” Of course, she isn’t satisfied with just that.

“Yeah, handsome, you were quiet too when I met you and look at you now.” He looks up from his hands to meet her expectant gaze. 

“I mean he didn’t say anything. He’s chained to his chair the entire time. He looked orange with how much cover up he’d put on. Amy, Simon looked miserable. They treat them like monsters in there.” 

She blinks, taken aback. Kieren doesn’t blame her. Who _would_ treat the Undead kindly after the Rising? He isn’t thrilled about going to the center either. Before meeting and sitting with Simon Kieren knows he would have struggled to think of the PDS sufferer as halfway human. Most of his classmates still hold the opinion they aren’t anything more than reanimated corpses, feel that just because PDS sufferers can move, look at them and maybe talk, the fact is that they’ll never be human again.

“Well - you’ll just have to be his friend.” Amy’s statement draws him out of his thoughts before what she says has registered. 

“Amy do you really think Simon will want to be friends with me? I’m some kid coming in gawking at him in order to draw his body for textbooks because he’s the Undead. I don’t think he’s going take that as me wanting to be friends.” 

“Of course, he’ll be friends with you, handsome!” She grinned, “Everyone wants to!” 

Kieren knows there’s no point in pressing the issue so instead he turns the topic to Amy’s classes and club activities, knowing she’d be happily regale him about everything. 

In the back of his mind he wonders if he should look at Simon’s file.


	2. Undead Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day two and Kieren is treated to his very own tongue lashing by Simon. Amy reminds him how little it costs to be kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song _Johnny Belinda_ by Active Child always makes me think of Simon. For some reason the deep humming is the biggest reason.

The next morning (Wednesday) it becomes apparent the treatment center has made him into a legend, doomed to the fate of a leper. The wide berth people are giving him makes that pointedly clear.

It starts out in his dorm - people ducking out of his way into other people’s doorways or rooms if he passes too close. The avoidance becomes even more pronounced as he and Amy stroll across campus. Students and even _professors_ are giving him plenty of space on the sidewalks. No longer are his teachers obligated to stick up for the odd kid out anymore; they blend in with the rest.

“Don’t be such a downer, Kieren!” Amy chides as she hip-checks him nearly sending him into a girl passing by. The girl jumps back, afraid, as if he carries a filthiness on his person. “Look at all this space we have now!” Amy laughs as she twirls, in a circle, grass-green skirt flaring around her, white petticoats frothing up at the motion. 

The smile he gives is forced. Despite having been forewarned of the consequences, he was still unready to be treated as a pariah. There isn’t going to be help from his family during this, either, if he even tells them about the treatment center. His Dad would pretend to be fine with it, saying that Kieren is being bold and adventurous, but end up needling him all the time about the safety of it. 

Mum, on the other hand, would be outright worried, though she would do her best to keep quiet if Kieren didn’t want to discuss it. And Jem, well - Jem would be furious that he was willingly putting himself in harm’s way. She would take it as a personal insult that her own brother after her work with the HVF, would associate with these near rabids. So that leaves Amy and a few of his art classmates to look for support. It isn’t long before Kieren finds which of his fellow art classmates feel the same as him.

Delaney, whom he shares a morning class with - anthropology - surprises him by settling in the chair next to him today. The chairs on either side are empty. 

“Hey Kieren, how’s your morning been?” Delaney asks as she gets out her notebook, pen, and highlighter for class. The reason for why she has chosen to sit with him is obvious. 

“Uneventful, besides being avoided like I’m going to give everyone the plague,” he quips with a rueful smile. Delaney nods, her mouth turned down, and, okay the joke was in bad taste, but he’s no doubt the same experience has been happening to her as well. Why else would she be sitting apart from her usual group? 

The rest of class passes without note and Kieren does feel bad now for making his earlier joke. Delaney doesn’t spoken a word to him besides saying goodbye once class ends. Just as he suspected, she leaves the room without her friends. The rest of his classes follow the same pattern. He sits alone unless a fellow art student is there, in which case they silently band together.

“Well handsome, it’s hard to be one of the beautiful people! Now you know what I have to go through every day,” Amy teases when he tells her of his afternoon during lunch time. Kieren gives her an unimpressed look. She sighs as she puts her arms around him and hugs. 

“You knew this wasn’t going to be easy, Kieren. You always want to do things differently, and now you are.” 

He holds onto her because she’s right and a comfort for her honesty. She grounds him when he feels like he’s floating away.

Wednesday slips by before Kieren knows it’s even started, turning into Thursday morning, watery sunlight making his curtains dimly glow.

Amy is awake as well, waiting in the lounge area by the doors out of the dormitory. Her trailing brown sugar hair is snarled into knots. She looks like a princess in her full-skirted nightgown. Kieren smiles when she throws her arms around his waist, pressing her face against his shoulder. 

“Handsome, why do you have to leave so early?” she grumbles. He strokes her head, tenderness softening his chest at her seeing him off at the crack of dawn. 

“You don’t have to come down every morning, Amy.” This earns an offended look from her at the mere suggestion that she sleep in. 

“What kind of wife would I be if I didn’t say goodbye before work?” 

Despite the nervous air that still buzzes inside the bus as they begin their hour and a half trip to the treatment center, already Kieren can tell his classmates are getting used to the idea of this. Nothing happened the first time and if that isn’t a good omen they don’t know what is. 

Kieren isn’t surprised that Delaney doesn’t sit with him on the bus. He can hear Jay in the back talking amongst his friends about what he’ll do if his Undead manages to get loose. At this point he puts in his earbuds to block out their raucous laughter and boasting. 

\--

The guards pat them down this time, including their teacher. Ms. Clay-Air is rightfully confused by this, and when she asks is told by a dark-haired guard that it’s to make sure none of the students are bringing contraband in for the Undead. He refuses to say more than that when she presses the issue. A heavy stone of unease forms in Kieren’s stomach. The guards are rather aggressive scouring through each person’s bag and supplies. Kieren ends up with his pencils all jumbled together by the time he gets his knapsack back. Likely he should count himself lucky that the guards didn’t break his supplies apart to see if they were hollowed out to carry drugs.

What kind of drugs would work on the Undead anyways? 

Chills ripple across his skin. Why else would the guards be checking them so closely if not for the possibility of drugs? Perhaps something happened after his class left last time? Maybe the Undead were becoming immune to the Neurotriptyline because of a drug that’s been brought in? Before he can ask Mary, who is waiting for him, she’s taken off, her long stride forcing Kieren to almost gallop after her. 

The rigid line of her back and pressed thin lips lets him know questions are not wanted. Maybe Simon was one of the Undead who took some of the supposed contraband and reverted to his rabid state? He would ask but the taser that rides on her belt keeps him silent. Or maybe one of them had reacted badly to the Neurotriptyline? Or had someone forgotten to give one them their shot? The unkind thought that he hoped it wasn’t Simon snuck through.

Even as those worries bite at him, he does notice that the center seems more…cleanly than his previous visit. No more inches of dust worn into paths, and the dark stains on the floor seem to have lightened up (human or Undead blood he isn’t sure). Even the cells’ doors - replaced when the prison was converted - seem freshly painted in white. Maybe Mary’s bad temper comes from having to make it look like they even faintly care about the Undead and not about drugs at all.

She speaks when they reach the tiled room where Simon awaits him. 

“Your rabid wouldn’t listen today about his cover up. Tell him he’s not to wear it anymore,” she snaps.

As if Kieren can do a single thing about Simon wearing his mousse. Also, what does she mean by _his_? Simon is no more his than any of the other Undead. But she says nothing else, just opens the door and impatiently gestures for him to go in. At the sound, Simon looks up and Kieren can’t help his shocked staring.

Simon has ivory skin where the mousse has been smeared off (maybe scrubbed from how patchy the clean up looks) with bone white irises holding pupils like gently beaten egg yolks. The belated realization he was wearing contacts the first time they met doesn’t make Kieren feel any better. If anything it’s worse that the one normal feature is now shown to be changed just as much as the rest of Simon. Amy’s words of friendship scatter out of his brain by this display of the not quite human.

It is Simon who looks away, down at the floor.

What also becomes clear are the bruises around his jaw and the scratches on his face. Rather numbly, Kieren sits down. It’s one thing to know the PDS sufferers here aren’t treated the best and another to see physical evidence of their abuse. 

Once again, he gets out his supplies and notebook. Wonders if he should draw the bruises and scratches to attest to what’s happening. But he doesn’t want to think of Simon remembered as such – a beaten creature locked away in a distant facility no one will care about. He doesn’t know what to say so they stay silent as he works. It takes him only about forty minutes to get the general sketches done that he wants.

“Do mind if I come sit closer? I need to have more details of you for the – for art class.” Kieren stumbles. How else does one politely ask to sketch the unusual and frightening features life after death has given someone?

“You will anyways whether I say so or not.” Simon spits – an Irish accent to his words– and Kieren’s taken aback at hearing the man’s voice for the first time. Guilt bites at him. It’s true he needs the details, and the guards will be unbothered with forcing Simon to let him close if he asks for the help.

“I’m not them. I’m not going to force you.” 

The manacles rattle as Simon shifts. “Tch, not the guards, are you? Coming to look at me in my cage locked away for your safety and used for your purposes? No, you’re not the guards who beat us or chain us down, but you don’t lift a finger to help us. You can’t get close to a rabid so a tamed corpse is what you’ll use instead. And if I say no? You’ll just go find another Undead to draw.” 

His bitterness is heavy enough to curl the tongue. 

The aura of assured martyrdom rankles him, as does Simon’s tone of conviction that Kieren is a willing follower to all this. It’s his voice, indeed his opinions, that bolsters Kieren’s courage. A reminder that while Simon is Undead he’s not a mindless creature. 

He frowns, putting aside his sketchbook. “No, I wouldn’t. If you don’t want me to come any closer I won’t. You say I won’t help, but what can I do? Can’t imagine the guards will do whatever I ask just because I say so. I’m just here to draw like you said.” Self righteous irritation makes him bold enough to hold Simon’s gaze in spite of the deformed pupils. 

Simon stares back eyebrows raised. What little confidence Kieren had evaporates at the disbelieving expression. He drops his eyes instead fussing with his supplies until a glance shows that Simon’s sunk back into his chair as if exhausted, eyes closed. A relief not to have those strange eyes upon him. They don’t speak for the rest of the afternoon. Lunch is the same noisy affair, with everyone swapping stories of their Undead and what they’re like. While he doesn’t join in, he does listen in on the conversations. Are the other residents of the treatment center as chatty as Simon is or silent and listless? The general consensus is that the others are creepy staring mutes. Kieren doesn’t add in his and Simon’s conversation to the general talk. He doesn’t need to be seen as unnerving amongst his classmates too.

When the afternoon drags to its end Kieren forces himself say goodbye to Simon. 

The other students are positively boisterous on the bus ride back talking about how they drew their _rabids_ (whispered out of Ms. Clay-Air’s hearing) up close, muzzled and chained up so they couldn’t attack them. The thought nags like an ache because, really, how he is any better than them? Sure, Simon isn’t muzzled but he’s still chained as if he’s poised to go feral at any moment. This otherness to the PDS sufferer is unsettling but Simon’s not given him an indication yet he’s going to revert to his before treatment state. Besides, the center would catch the relapse before anything bad happened. Surely, they know the warning signs if that was going to happen…

The queasiness of his stomach isn’t reassuring him of that thought.

\--

Amy is in class this time around when he gets back to the dorm. He checks the mail and is slightly cheered to see Rick’s answered his letters with five of his own. The goofy idiot. A sigh as he goes to his room, still being avoided by the others in the hallway. Once in his room he’s so glad to flop down onto his bed and relax. Soon enough Kieren drifts off to sleep more drained than he had thought possible.

The sound of his phone ringing is what wakes him up an hour later. Blearily he gropes for it in his pocket before managing to extract it.

“Hullo?” He rasps, still half asleep and wishing he still was.

“Kieren - you idiot, you said you were going to call me yesterday!” Jem’s voice shouts in his ear.

“I was?” A huff of annoyance. The image is strong of Jem rolling her heavily kohl rimmed eyes.

“I swear you don’t love me at all. Remember? My interview for working at the bookstore in town? I got it!”

A twinge of guilt. He’s been so wrapped up in the treatment center and schoolwork that in fact he hadn’t remembered.

“That’s great Jem! When do you start working? Are you going to save up for that tattoo you wanted first?”

“Pfft as if Kier! Mum and Dad wouldn’t let it go if I got one now. Not that I care, I just don’t want to hear about what a good son you are all the time.”

Kieren smiles and shakes his head, rolling onto his back. It’s good to hear from her. He’s really needed this reality check.

“No, I’m saving to get some piercings. I’m thinking about my eyebrow and tongue. What do you think?”

Kieren giggles, “I think you’ll look very punk rock Jem but I don’t think your work will like that, will they?”

“Eh, what do they care? It’s my face, I’ll do with it what I want.”

He shakes his head as he listens to Jem go on about her days - what’s happening in school, mostly. The HVF has fallen into a sharp decline since the Undead have been medicated. She reports that this has made the diehards of the crew unhappy. Kieren can’t say he’s all that sorry to hear the news, though he keeps quiet. Jem had joined the Human Volunteer Force when it was first made and she holds it dear to her heart though he doesn’t know why. The men who are a part of the group are known bullies around town. Probably just glad they could brutalize people who had no protection against anything done to them.

There’s no way he can tell Jem that he now goes to draw the Undead two times a week. She would be absolutely furious at him for being so reckless after risking her life during the Rising.

\---

This time when Kieren and Amy discuss Simon, they’re sprawled out on the futon in Amy’s room partially watching a cooking show. It would be a lie to say that he didn’t want to talk about the treatment center or his Undead model. Simon’s words still nag and Amy’s the only one who doesn’t look at Kieren with fascination (as if he’s changed into something strange) or horror that he’s speaking to one of the Undead. At the same time, it seems all he ever talks about is his art class.

Currently Amy is a comfortable weight on him, her head on his chest, draped over him like a blanket. Tia, Amy’s roommate, doesn’t even bother to look surprised when she pops in to grab something and sees them tangled together.

“Hullo Kieren, how’s things?” She asks as she fusses with her hair a moment before moving to her dresser for her jewelry. A blessing that she too isn’t morbidly curious about his time in the center. Tia maintains the Undead give her the creeps, so why would she want to hear about them?

“Things are okay. A lot of free time.”

Tia glances at him with a sympathetic smile. “I can imagine.” before she’s back to the mirror touching up her make-up, “I’m staying the night at Chad’s place, Amy so you can have Kieren over if you want.”

Kieren rolls his eyes with a smile when Amy hugs him. There’s a reason the whole floor thinks they’re dating. Nor does it help that his nickname from Amy is often “husband”. He plays along though, calling her “wife” when he’s feeling particularly affectionate.

Once Tia has left, before Amy can get the jump on him, he asks the one question guaranteed to throw her off the treatment center for a bit. Simon’s words still sting his pride.

“So, tell me about this Phillip guy. You said he sits next to you in class and he gives you funny looks?”

At once she sits up to properly tell the story. Perfect - she’ll be distracted for a bit longer.

“Yeah he’s been lookin’ at me the whole like he’s scared of me.” Here Amy glances down at Kieren with big owl eyes before snapping her gaze to the TV. She repeats the creeping look back to his face twice for good effect. He laughs at how well she does it.

“He’s been doing that since classes started?”

“Near about,” She grouses as she lays back down on him. “Every time I ask him ‘what’ he gets scared and won’t look at me for the rest of class or afterwards.”

“But isn’t that what you wanted?” A light smack on his chest.

“But I want to know _why_ he keeps doing that. If he doesn’t say anything how am I supposed to know?”

And here Amy claims Kieren is ignorant when it comes to being hit on by others.

“Amy, he might like you. Maybe he’s just too nervous to say anything.” She blew a raspberry.

“If he can’t even talk to me he’s not worth talking to in the first place. Besides,” Here she leans up so she can look down on him. “You’re avoiding talking about Simon. What happened?”

He bites at his lip not able to meet Amy’s eyes. The humiliation rolls over him in small hot waves. How can he tell her that Simon accused him of being one of the bad guys? That he was just as terrible for treating Simon like an animal. Or that Jem seems to be recovering from her time as a HVF and that knowing her big brother was every week going to see the very creature she had fought to keep away from him would betray her?

“Love?”

A crease has appeared between her eyebrows. There’s no use for it. He’s going to tell her at some point.

“Simon said I was just coming to ogle him like a freak in a cage.”

Now it’s Amy’s turn to be puzzled. She sits up fully, throwing her legs over his waist and tucking her heels back under his side. It’s clear she’s not ready to talk, so Kieren turns his attention back to the new cooking episode though his mind isn’t on it at all.

“How would you feel about PDS sufferers, about them being chained down and abused like that if it were me, Kieren?” Amy asks an hour later bringing him back from the cooking show he ended up getting absorbed in. 

“What do you mean if it was you, silly?” Kieren answers with a smile. Of course he would be more sympathetic and concerned if it was Amy in Simon’s place. He would fight tooth and nail for her to be treated with dignity and respect. The obviousness makes her question seem silly but Amy’s serious expression kills what amusement he finds. There’s few things that can take away her perpetual humor. For a moment Kieren imagines her with eyes like Simon’s. The idea is very unsettling.

“If it was you I would do everything to make sure you were comfortable and visit you every day.”

“Would you take me in if my family said no?” He props himself up on his elbows concerned. This isn’t normal rhetorical questions for her.

“Of course, I would, Amy.” She nods absently gaze drifting away from him as she speaks again.

“I was nearly one of the Undead, Kieren. I had leukemia the year before the Rising happened. Radiation, pills, counseling, all that fun stuff. I feel connected to them knowing it could have been me in that center. Tortured and kept prisoner like an animal. And I’m telling you this Kieren Walker not because I want your pity.” 

Amy’s gaze is sharp. All he can respond with is a nod. “I want you to see Simon’s still human. He’s scared and he’s very alone right now, love. We share the alienation of death. No one wants to be around someone who's been so close to not living. I want you to treat him how you would me. Stop seeing him as some Undead monster about to attack. He’s taking his medication and he hasn’t had a relapse yet.”

Numbly Kieren nods dazed by this information. The sharpness melts from Amy before she’s lying back down on top of him. He strokes her long hair the tension slowly easing from her shoulders. He can’t seem to catch his breathe. The understanding of how close his best friend came to being one of the Undead presses down on his lungs. What can he say to that? Congratulations on not dying? Hooray that she wasn’t captured and imprisoned? That she won the luck of remission while Simon died from whatever causes?

“Kieren,” Amy looks up at him from where she’s resting her head on his chest. What a deep shade of brown her irises are. “I didn’t tell you about my cancer for you to feel sorry for me. I don’t need you to apologize, or comfort, or tell me everything’s going to be okay, got it love? The worst way you could react is to treat me differently from how you did before you knew. I just want you to love me the same and call me your wife because your face is hilarious when you do, okay? I’m still your Amy.”

He swallows the ache that’s welled up in his throat. Of course, Amy is right. This knowledge shouldn’t change anything of their friendship not if he loves her.

“You’re still my Amy.” Kieren manages. A smile from her before Amy’s shifting up enough to kiss his cheek and then settling herself back into her comfortable position against his side.

“Now enough of this sad stuff, husband. I’m betting Izzy’s going to beat your Gaby in this episode. She made it to the dessert round last time and Gaby lost after the appetizer.” The laughter that burbles up loosens his chest up enough to breathe properly.

“You wish. The judges loved Gaby’s appetizer this time around!”

Amy’s right. He loves her too much to let this new information of her past affect them. It wouldn’t be fair to her for it to disrupt what they have. Nor to keep him from trying to bridge the chasm between himself and Simon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels so odd to be finally be putting this up!


	3. Amy and Rick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy and Kieren (at Amy's insistence) write letters to Simon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Take me to Church_ by Hozier is my permanent song to Amy.

The first time Simon’s name is called for mail he’s surprised. Post day on Friday is the biggest activity for any of them here (or it was until the art students) and even if they aren’t technically alive they’re still human enough to freely gossip when they can. It’s for the fact this is only the time for talking he’s here. The only time before his name was called was for the single letter he received from his father expressing shock that he was alive and vague horror that he was now Undead.

On this day Carl, one of the many guards, shoves two envelopes into his hand before turning back to the box filled with letters and packages. It takes only a moment to read that the two are from Kieren and a name he doesn’t recognize. Whoever she is she loves decorations. Amy (the front of the envelope tells him) has decorated hers with stickers and little chibi animals. She’s even signed the back of the envelope with his name in a flourish. This must be a friend of Kieren’s, but why would she or Kieren bother to write to him? Last time Simon had spoken with him they had ended up at a stalemate on whether Kieren was a willing participant or not of degrading the Undead.

He wonders at her curiosity and efforts to be friendly. Kieren can easily enough tell her all about him or give her the file on his whole life, but clearly she insisted on reaching out to him herself. So it’s with care he opens the envelope to avoid ripping it to find she’s included with her letter more stickers and a little messy doodle that is clearly Kieren’s work.

_Dear Simon,_

_I thought a letter would be a nice surprise! I’ve heard from Kieren and the grape vine how they treat the Undead in the center. No doubt you’re wondering what a silly girl like me cares about what happens to the Undead. Well, you’re just going to have to find out! See? I’ve given you the perfect excuse to keep writing to me. I’ve included a small drawing of Kieren’s with the stickers. I always take the doodles he doesn’t like. When Kieren’s a famous artist we’ll be able to brag about having his drawings from the beginning!_

_Is there anything else I can send you to make the days better? I have plenty of stickers so I can send you lots more. I’ll bully Kieren for more drawings if you’d like. I’m Amy Wren Dyer by the way. What’s your middle name? (Don’t worry Kieren refuses to let anyone look at your file.) Did your parents try to be poetic with yours as well? In my opinion middle names don’t fit anyone. You’ll have to ask Kieren for his I laugh every time I hear it!_

_Anyways let me know via letter or Kieren if you want me to keep writing. Would the guards let you answer back? Even if you can’t answer I would be happy to write to you and anyone else who wants letters._

_Affectionately yours,_

_Amy_

Simon isn’t sure whether to believe her or not. Granted her letter gives no suggestion she wishes to know anymore than what he wants to tell her. She’s even given him the choice of whether he would like to be penpals or not. It’s more choices then he’s been given since he became one of the Undead. It’s oddly touching that she treats him like anyone else she wants to befriend. He chuckles to himself, it’s unsettling after so long.

Yes, he will be penpals with Amy. The letters will give him something to look forward to in this place where time never moves. He can already think of two others who would jump at the chance to write to someone on the outside as well.

Speaking of others, he sets aside Amy’s letter to pick up Kieren’s. This envelope is a deep purple – the color is nice where all colors here are gray, white or black. On the back is a sticker with a calligraphy _S_ on the flap. Once again, he’s careful with opening the letter.

_Dear Simon,_

Kieren’s handwriting is neat like he’s typed this.

_I’m not sure how to start this letter since Amy’s the one who came up with the idea to write to you. I figured after how our last session ended you wouldn’t be interested in getting a letter from me. Amy said it was worth a try but don’t feel obligated to write back. I’ll tell her we have nice long drawn out talks during drawing time instead. I’m sorry if I was an asshole last time. Feels like I can’t stop putting my foot in my mouth. What can I possibly say that doesn’t look ignorant?_

_Recently Ms. Clay-Air (our teacher) looked over our work. She said your portrait was striking. Your eyes are the hardest part to draw but they’re lovely. If there’s something I can do to help or bring just let me know._

_Sincerely,_

_Kieren_

Simon isn’t sure how he feels about Kieren’s letter. This attitude is quite the change from his defiant one on Thursday defending his position of helpless observer. What has changed him to offer help now? Perhaps his angry words had more of an impact than he thought. Never had he planned for his venting to nag Kieren as much as it clearly has. Admittedly for once it had been nice to see someone else be stung by words instead of himself. 

Perhaps Amy has something to do with this difference. Whatever it is Simon is curious to keep writing to find out if Kieren will be this honest without Amy’s meddling. Even if he is lying about his intentions soon enough Kieren will go back to his world and he, Simon, will stay trapped here in the treatment center.

\--

It’s Tuesday once again and Simon has to admit he’s looking forward to Kieren even as he feels naked without his mousse. The painful scrubbing he had received from Mary last time was enough to keep him from putting it on this morning - just barely - for his stomach still curdles at remembering Kieren’s expression of shock and fright that his uncovered face and eyes had inspired.

It’s not on purpose that relief bubbles up when Kieren comes through the door. It takes Simon about five minutes of watching to realize this time he isn’t cowering. No longer is his posture timid and hunched over. Instead Kieren’s looking at him properly as he draws. No fleeting glances or embarrassed silences. 

“You’re looking at me today.” He can’t resist prodding.

Kieren’s mouth tightens. _Ah, so not a complete change._

“Something Amy told me made me realize what an arse I was being. How if I was in your shoes I wouldn’t want some dumb kid being all scared of me because of what happened.”

“What were these great words that inspired you? Perhaps she could tell them to the guards. They need a lesson in humanity.”

Kieren’s eyes wander over his face before he’s back at his sketchbook gaze contemplative.

“It’s personal to Amy. I’m glad she shared it though.” 

Simon wonders what her words were. Obvious the closeness of their relationship would affect the impact. Perhaps a friend or relative is also Undead? However, there’s little chance of him not knowing that. Although the mail is an option word of mouth is largely how one finds out. Visiting relatives, friends and guardians often tell the news. The guards are an excellent source as well. They underestimate their prisoners as subhuman and discuss any matters they wish with little care. But now that Simon and the others in the art class’ project have shown they’re intelligent they aren’t trusted with loudly spoken secrets. Without an inkling of guilt those involved with the art program have begun to use the newly medicated to listen in on the guards. 

“I can imagine you must have questions despite Amy’s words. Everyone does.”

He’s been waiting for the inevitable inquiries. Rather polite of Kieren to hold off until now. Make Simon be the one who allows his curiosity. 

For a few moments’ Kieren chews on his bottom lip as he works. In a rush he asks, “Do you sweat? Does the medicine work on your body as well? To keep it from - y’know - decaying?” This time Kieren keeps his eyes on the sketchbook. Afraid to see if he’s tread on Simon’s toes. 

A soft noise burbles from his throat before Simon remembers the sound as a chuckle. Why is he surprised that he would be asked about how his body functions instead of his time as a rabid? This is the same person who bothered to speak to him in the first place.

“No, the Neurotriptyline keeps my brain from decaying, but not the rest of me. It’s been slowed to the same rate as the living. I have no sensation of feeling either. It’s all just different levels of pressure - not a way to live.” 

Kieren nods and for a time they are quiet him every so often glancing at Simon as he works. The silence is comfortable. It feels almost odd to be this relaxed. 

“Do your mum and da know that you’re here?” The question is out before he thinks about it. 

A shake of the head and he supposes he’s not all that surprised. Easy to see why Kieren wouldn’t bring this up to his family. Not even relatives stand or stay together about matters involving the Undead. 

“My sister Jem, she’s-,” Kieren grimaces to himself. “She’s a part of the HVF and even though mum and dad disapprove they’d go mental if they knew I was here doing this.” 

“So I’m your dirty little secret, hm?” 

Kieren flushes with guilt or embarrassment but Simon can’t say he’s upset by that either way. 

“No, you’re a surprise is all.” 

Yeah, what a nice surprise he’ll be for Mum and Dad.

\--

Kieren decidedly doesn’t tell Amy about this latest visit. Well more the case he makes something up as he’s once again been humiliated. Just a few days ago she was telling him to treat Simon like a regular person and here he’s too ashamed to tell his family that he’s drawing the Undead. He won’t even tell them about Simon.

This nags at him until Thursday when he makes up his mind that he’ll ask for the chains to be taken off him. The thought fills Kieren with dread but if it was Amy he would demand she be released at once possible attacks or relapses be damned. Yes, imagining Amy in Simon’s place is far easier than to think of Simon as an actual person. The strangeness of him is unnerving but for all that Kieren is frightened he’s unwillingly intrigued. 

The moment they’re out of earshot of the other students he forces himself to ask Mary. “Will you take the chains off Simon? Or at least his handcuffs? He hasn’t relapsed once. He seems uncomfortable every time I draw him.” It comes out on a painful breath.

Mary gives him an odd look. “It’s for your own safety. Don’t try and be a hero with these rabids. The medicine’s not been perfected yet.” 

“You won’t even think about it?” Kieren can’t help but prod. 

She shakes her head. “Not my decision to think about. Up to Victor and John if they think he’s medicated enough to be out of restraints.” 

It’s a lie if Kieren says he’s not relieved to hear this. Without a doubt that would have been the ending of their bonding if not for Rick. He’s the one who changes everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters vary in length from one another because I'm trying to keep the scenes that go together from being disjointed.


	4. Fatal Wound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick comes to stay with Kieren for the weekend. He too has escaped the life of the Undead. Simon starts to open up to Kieren.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Time_ by Onuka is suited to this chapter.

It’s two months into the school year when Rick calls him.

“Ren, please tell me you’re free tomorrow and this weekend.” Kieren kneels up from where he’s sat on the floor sorting out his clean socks and underwear. Currently they’re in a video call though often that just means they both are doing their own activities. 

“Um - I should be. I might have a quiz or test tomorrow but otherwise just normal classes, why?” Rick grins eyes squinching up from the surprise he’s clearly dying to tell. How sweet he looks. 

“I’m on leave now and-,” Here Rick speaks softer into his headphone mic, “I wanted to spend my first weekend home with you.” Kieren squeaks giddiness has him light as air. 

“What did you tell your parents about coming to see me first? Your dad couldn’t have been happy to hear that.” 

Rick laughs and leans back bare chest on display. “Easy,” He shrugs lacing his fingers behind his head. “Just told him I was going to see some mates around town and let loose. As long as it’s expected behavior Dad won’t care.” 

Kieren rolls his eyes ducking out of sight as he gathers up his paired socks. “Of course he won’t.” He catches Rick frowning as he stands and moves off towards his dresser. This conversation isn’t what he wanted to hear. 

“Ren-,” Rick sighs, exasperated. Good because he’s done with these bullshit expectations of Rick’s dad. Rick’s lack of a spine is a big reason a romantic relationship won’t work between them. A miracle that he even maintains a friendship with him so strong is the familial disapproval. Rick’s dad doesn’t care for him not just because he’s gay, it’s a factor of other things, but the biggest is the reason he sees Kieren as lesser than his son. 

“Kieren,” A pleading note in Rick’s voice. He moves back into view. He still loves Rick; it just has to be as friends. “I promise we’ll have the best time when I get there, okay? Trust me.” Kieren manages a weak smile and a nod. Rick smiles back trying to find once again reassurance his playing the fence is fine. For now it is. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“You too Rick, I love you.” 

“To the moon and back, Kier.” 

One last smile before Rick ends the call. He’ll never say the phrase unless he’s alone and the barracks don’t make the best place for declarations of love. It must be staggering to keep up with so many expectations. However much Kieren might like to mope about the hopelessness of that situation it’s time to get started on cleaning their room. Brandon, his roommate, shouldn’t mind Rick coming over.

An hour later he’s vacuumed their tiny carpeted area, dusted his side, emptied the waste bin, and just thrown his sheets in the washer when Brandon returns from classes. 

“Something happenin’, Walker?” Brandon sets his backpack on his bed, toeing off his shoes in the process. He’s less skittish now that he’s gotten used to Kieren going to draw Simon. In fact, he’s ended up fascinated by the portraits of him. 

“Yeah, my best friend Rick is coming to town tomorrow. He meant to surprise me about it but needs a place to crash. Would you mind if he stayed with us? I’ll tell him which snacks not to eat.”

Brandon shakes his head as he pulls off his shirt getting ready for his gymnastics practice. 

“I don’t care. As long as he doesn’t snore I’m fine. Have you...said anything about _him_?” Kieren would find it funny that Simon’s spoken about as if some secret boyfriend if the situation was humorous in the first place. 

“No, Rick wouldn’t like knowing I go to see Simon, but if it comes up please don’t freak. He’ll be plenty upset by himself.” 

Brandon nods lacing up his trainers. 

“It’s a miracle your parents haven’t heard anything what with a big open secret like this.” 

Kieren shrugs tidying up the papers on his desk. Panic tightens his lungs when the thought of his family finding out comes up. He does his best not to brood on the fact they’ll be betrayed by his omissions. 

\--

It’s early morning when his phone rings startling him out sleep. 

“What - hullo?” Kieren rasps out eyes still glued shut with sleep. Laughter makes him scrub at the grit; brain still lagging behind at who would call him this early and be entertained by doing so. 

“I can’t believe it! I tell you I’m coming over and you’re fuckin’ asleep!” Rick teases and _oh shit_ he didn’t think that meant a seven am arrival! He clambers down from his lofted bed throwing a light jacket over his bare chest. Brandon’s bed creaks as his blanket shifts covering him up completely. 

He lowers his voice hoping he hasn’t woken Brandon up. “I didn’t think you meant so early. Are you out front? You’ll have to be quiet and lay with me, Ezra hasn’t given us the blow up bed for you to sleep on yet.” 

“Fine by me! I always like curling up with my Ren.” Rick cooes. So he’s most certainly alone and very sleep deprived to be this sappy. Quite alright with him. 

He hurries down the stairwell butterflies in his chest a grin pulling at his mouth as he comes into sight of the lobby. 

“You’d have a girlfriend by now if you said things like that to her.” 

Rick’s laughter echoes over the phone and through the glass front doors. A moment later Kieren’s let him into the lobby before he’s swept up in Rick’s arms. A soft groan from them as they hug and god how good it feels to be held. The military has made him quite fit, a nice benefit. 

Without a moment to lose Kieren leads the way to the elevator which they take to the fifth floor, before he’s leading the way down the hall and to their dorm. Rick quietly sets his stuff down by his desk. They both duck out to the use the bathroom before finally clambering up into his bed struggling not to giggle. Brandon is still fast asleep. Good thing for he doesn’t see the soft kiss Rick places on Kieren’s cheek when he’s settled as little spoon, Rick’s arm tucked over his chest. Once again he lets it slide. Soon enough Rick won’t show affection like this anymore even if they are alone. Kieren will take what he can get for now. 

It’s not until noon that Kieren wakes up his empty stomach twisting in hunger. Mindful of his bedfellow he moves Rick’s arm, sits up, and checks his silenced phone to see Amy has texted him three times. Once at eight to ask about breakfast, again at nine thirty to ask if he’s awake, and the last at ten forty five to say she was off to the animal shelter and that she’ll be back at three. 

_Have fun Amy! Rick is here. Look forward to you meeting him._

Amy replies so fast he’s just gotten down from bed when his phone buzzes again.

_Tell army hunk I expect a gun show! Tilda’s going to miss you today._

He smiles grabbing a granola bar from his desk drawer to tide him over. Darling and warm as she can be Kieren knows Amy is protective. It’s a good sign she’s so eager to meet Rick. 

“Ren?” 

Rick’s sleepy raspy voice.

“Down here. Just grabbing a granola bar.”

Rick’s face appears at the edge of the bed dark blond hair standing on end. From his barely open eyes he could probably do with another four hours of sleep.

The weekend trickles by and Kieren is exhausted at the end of each day by the constant running around they do. Friday consists of walking around campus, bringing Rick to his classes, and afterwards hanging out with Amy who is indeed treated to the gun show she wanted. Saturday they’re left to their own devices as Amy is off a on date though she won’t say with who. So they wander around town, Rick buys silly college memorabilia before it’s back to the dorm for video game night on the third floor. 

It’s five am on Sunday when someone finally lets slip about the treatment center and Kieren’s involvement. He’s in the bathroom when his secret is let loose. He can tell the instant he comes back because no one will look at him besides Rick who has gone pale in the face. 

“Let’s head back, Kieren. I’m a bit tired. Thank you guys.” Rick suggests standing up as Kieren won’t take another step into the room of those that ratted on him. Why did he even bother to think he could hide the art class? Granted he knows why; it’s because he was hoping to keep at least one other friend through this ordeal. Afterwards Kieren’s not angry with Simon – no he’s angry at himself and Rick. For the puppet, he allows himself to be and that he won’t see the Undead as anything but zombies.

Thankfully Brandon as given them the room for Sunday. No one else to witness the aftermath of this secret. Rick stays silent until the door is closed behind them to go off.

“Kieren, are you nuts? Why the hell would you ever sign up for something like this?! You’re willing to put yourself in harm’s way for what? A handful of drawings? Drop out and let the others do it instead!”

“What, so you’d just have me do nothing for them, Rick? Is that what I should have told you when you signed up for the army? Let someone else stand in your place and die. That’s fine as long as you’re alright.”

He grits his jaw the muscle seething. “You know that’s different. I’m giving my life to a good cause. The military saves people. The rabids _eat_ them. You’re walking into a den of them!” Rick shouts no longer able to control his temper.

“You don’t know anything!” Kieren shouts back. His face and body are hot. “Rick, all you ever do is quote your dad. Simon is a person even if he is Undead more than some of the jackasses in my art class.”

“Fine!” Rick throws up his arms. “Go ahead, Kieren, throw away the safety we all worked to give you, my dad included! Be selfish and throw Jem’s sacrifice in her face. Your own sister risked her-,”

“I know she risked her life, Rick! But it’s different now! They’re being _treated_. We don’t have to shoot them like animals!”

Rick whirls away shaking his head snorting in disgust. Kieren swallows his entire body humming with anger. 

“If you’re serious about this, Ren, I’m - I’m not going to stay tonight.” 

All the blood in his body seems to pool in his feet righteous anger forgotten. 

“What? Why? Rick, it’s five in the morning how are you going to catch a ride home? Just stay until the sun comes up at least.” He’s desperate now to keep Rick close because as soon as he walks out that door it will mean the end of their friendship. Rick’s dad will make sure of that. But Rick’s shaking his head as he moves about the room gathering his clothes. Kieren swallows only able to watch as he packs up. If he could he’d do whatever it took to keep Rick from leaving but there’s no point now.

Once he’s left Kieren crawls into bed curled up under the blankets. Tears slide hot across his face as he lays there. How many more will he lose? 

Monday is difficult. It’s hard to find a reason to get out of bed. Rick’s rejection has dealt him a hard blow. After his first class of the day comes and goes he finally sits up in bed. He hasn’t cried himself out yet but his head hurts too much to continue right now. So instead Kieren throws on his most comfortable sweatpants and hoodie to go numbly sitting through his three other classes. 

The upside to his day is Amy excitedly telling him about her date night with Phillip. 

“I finally asked the poor sop out myself!” Amy grins wide eyes crinkled up in delight. “You should have seen him, Kier! If he stuttered before I think he went mute after that. All he could do was nod.” 

He gives a weak smile and shakes his head. Only bold Amy would be proud to have a man speechless about going on a date. “Did you manage to keep him silent the whole date with your charms?” He can’t resist teasing. 

She giggles and bumps her shoulder against his. “No handsome thankfully not or I would’ve been bored to tears. You know what finally got him to talk?” Kieren smiles at her wind up. “Cooking class!” 

“I would have cried right there.” 

“I almost did too but the poor thing is absolutely hopeless in the kitchen! A riot to listen to him go on about bumbling a cooking class. Wants to prove to his mum he can take care of himself.” 

He hugs her close petting her hair. “Listen to you already in love!” 

She hugs him back giggling. “It’s not love yet but I’m willing to give Phillip a try. He was even a gentleman enough to walk me home and kissed me goodnight on the cheek.” 

“A gentleman for a gentlewoman.” Kieren smiles. 

\--

The moment Kieren walks into the room on Tuesday it’s clear Simon knows something is off. 

“Well, I can finally see what you go through.” The hollow laugh rattles in his chest. It hurts.

Simon frowns. Kieren misses at first that he’s not handcuffed anymore.

“What happened, Kieren?”

He swallows hard unable to hold Simon’s gaze.

A shrug. “Just lost my close friend over the weekend. He found out what I do. That I come to see you.”

When Kieren looks back up it’s to find Simon’s eyes have not wavered from his. There is no shame or apology in them.

“It’s hard to lose the ones we love. Exhausting to be alone.”

Kieren has to blink the heat from his eyes.

“You’re not handcuffed anymore.” He croaks. Anything to keep from crying and a change of subject from himself. Simon rubs his wrists with a twist to his smile.

“Yes, well you helped me with that. John and Victor thought it was time to get rid of them and your suggestion decided them now was good enough as any to do so.”

The smile he can summon is weak but genuine. 

It’s an hour into their session when Simon speaks up breaking the silence they’d fallen into. 

“How much detail do you need for your textbooks? I can’t imagine you’ve gotten much sitting halfway across the room.” 

Kieren shrugs; sheepish. “It would help if I could move closer if that’s alright? And - if it wouldn’t be intrusive could I draw your hands?” 

Simon chuckles. “Now that it’s been proven that I won’t attack.” Before he can awkwardly deny that Simon continues. “Yes, you may draw my hands and come closer. Just know like the rest of me they aren’t pretty.” 

Without hesitation Kieren picks up his chair walking it over and sets it close enough so that when he sits down their knees are pressed against one another’s. The smile that pulls at Simon’s lips won’t be denied. He offers up his hands. Kieren holds his hands turning them this way and that studying the pallid color. Dark veins stand out underneath the skin. One part of many that makes up the strangeness of the Undead. It’s no comfort to find Simon’s hands are cold. His stomach twists at the reminder that although he may have his mind back Simon’s body for all intents and purposes is still dead even with this ability to move. 

Before his mind can wander any further down that road gently Simon removes his hands from his grasp in order to roll up his sleeves. At once Kieren notices the dark spots dotted in the creases of Simon’s elbows. The mugshots nestled within the manila folder flash through his mind.

Simon watches him carefully. “You have my entire life file. The others have told me they were given to you on the first day here. Orientation of sorts to the person I used to be.”

Kieren lifts his eyes to meet his gaze. “I saw your mugshots and your birth certificate when I flipped through, but I don’t know how you died because I haven’t read up on you. An invasion of privacy.”

Simon raises his eyebrows blinking as if he can’t believe what he’s heard. No doubt he figured that he, Kieren, would relish reading every detail available.

“Well you would have found plenty. I was often arrested for drug possession,” He glances at his scarred arms. “Plenty of jail time – almost to prison. The drugs made sure I went into the ground before that.”

Kieren’s at a loss for what to say. He’s no clue what’s prompted this frankness. 

“Why’re you being so nice to me?” Pops out of his mouth before he can think it through. At once heat sears through his body. He’s such an idiot. Here Simon is opening up to him and all he can react with is suspicion. Instead of drawing back or turning cold Simon leans in grasping Kieren’s hands. He’s too taken aback by this casual touch to pull away. 

“It’s easy enough to see you’re struggling, Kieren. You’re experiencing what happens when you’re involved with the Undead. Isolation from those you love, rumors, hostility. What my life was before and after I died.” Simon gently squeezes his hands. Kieren swallows throat tight. “You and Amy have given me my humanity back. The medicine gave me my mind, but you two have treated me as human. I want to give you that support.” 

He nods unable to speak for tearing up. This reassurance that someone cares for him, is looking out for him from the PDS sufferer he once feared no less. 

“Thank you, Simon.” 

Simon smiles and releases his hands. Now Kieren wishes he would have held on. 

Their relationship changes after that day. The stiffness in each other’s presence melts away. In its’ place Kieren takes to sitting with his knees pressed to Simon’s pleased at getting the details he needs and being able to give this physical contact. There’s no doubt in his mind that Simon is rarely touched at all. He’s come to understand near complete isolation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uninspiring summaries but they do their job.


	5. All I did was fail today

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's still one piece left to Kieren's life to try and bear the weight of his Undead secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _All We Do_ by Oh Wonder.

For the next few months life quiets down. The days slip by with little notice as they soak up each other’s companionship. Amy is still always there for him but even she has begun to focus on her own things besides the treatment center. For example her tentative boyfriend Phillip who she loves to gush on about. Kieren doesn’t hold any resentment for the fact she’s found something new to fawn over. First off that’s how she is with everything that catches her interest. Second Amy deserves this newfound infatuation. Already she’s supported him through so much. Now it’s her turn to be coddled and supported by Phillip. He’s a nervous guy prone to stuttering or just not saying anything when he’s uncomfortable, but on the whole he treats Amy like a princess. Kieren approves of him.

The Christmas frenzy starts on campus everyone going all out with getting into the holiday spirit. Amy herself decides to take up knitting and is tickled pink. It’s her that brings up the idea of celebrating the season with Simon. They’re at the craft store for a new pencils when she mentions the idea. Kieren asks what he could possibly do that he could bring into the center with him without the guards going berserk.

Amy rolls her eyes with a grin at hearing this excuse.

“That’s why I asked you dum-dum! You’re going to be the famous artist! I’m just your gorgeous wife that no one can resist.” Amy teases as she snatches up a costume crown and places it on her head. Kieren can’t help but laugh as he takes her proffered hand and lets her lead him around the craft store to see what can be fashioned into a sneaky Christmas decoration.

-

“You’ll have to design our wedding invitations, gorgeous!” Amy gushes as she looks over at his origami designs he’s made. A smile pulls at his mouth as he finishes his first attempt at a crow. While it’s apt for the treatment center Kieren guesses she won’t let it in with the rest.

Over the weekend Kieren dedicates his time and new stacks of origami paper to crafting all sorts of practice animals for Simon. Amy insists he give her any ones that don’t pass his inspection. She’ll use them to decorate her dorm room and make everyone jealous. Kieren looks to the origami penguin that sit on his window sill. He wonders what animal suits Simon. The easy one would be a crow for the color of his hair and past eating habits. 

It’s the day before winter break and the art class is restless to leave as soon as they arrive. The center looks its normal depressive self no effort made towards the holiday spirit and really, why would they? It’s not like any but a few of the Undead here even know what year it is let alone have a wish to celebrate Christmas with their fellows.

Once the door has been shut behind him shyly Kieren hands the small envelope to Simon. He barely convinced Amy to not decorate the outside of it. Instead when Simon opens the envelope he’s confronted with tiny flower stickers, hand drawn hearts, smiley faces and stick figures of himself, Kieren and Amy holding hands.

“Amy - she wanted to make sure you were included for Christmas.” He murmurs unsettled by the embarrassment that threatens. Although he and Simon have become friends this giving of artwork feels intimate. _He wants Simon to enjoy what he’s made for him, praise his work_ , Kieren realizes with a stinging blush to his cheeks. Stupid artist ego. 

However, Simon doesn’t seem to find the gift stupid at all. The smile that lights up his face has Kieren unintentionally mimicking him. 

“Thank you, Kieren. Thank Amy as well. I will be the envy of the center to have these wonderful gifts. These origami animals are beautiful.” 

Warmth unfurls in his chest at the compliments. 

\-- 

John and Victor approach him during the school’s break (Kieren had let know him ahead of time that the art class wouldn’t be here for four weeks on winter break).

“Simon,” John (the friendliest one of two) calls out knocking on his cell door. Simon puts aside his most recent letter from Amy. She’s going to see her mother’s extensive side of relatives and wants him to commiserate with her. Amy promises that her Uncle Barry will simply love him and his Irish accent when he comes to visit. Sweet girl has already made up her mind that he’s going to ever leave this place.

It’s weird for anyone to knock politely when coming to speak with him. Usually he’s chained up and made to follow after a guard if either of the founders want to see him or one of their scientist friends. 

Without waiting for his permission (not that Simon has any authority to give such a thing) the two enter.

“We have a proposal for you.”

He waits letting them fidget when he fixes his white eyes on them. No matter how polite the act is John and Victor are disturbed by what they and their chemicals have brought back to life

A cough on John’s part and exasperated look from Victor before John speaks again. “You were the first one to respond to drug that is now being administered to all PDS sufferers. If things keep going this way – well -,” Here John looks to Victor. Hope flares bright and hot in Simon’s chest in the silence. 

“There’s a possibility for a cure?”

John nods but does not speak.

“What do I need to do?”

There’s no mistaking the man’s relieved smile. He’s here to help Simon be fixed.

“Let us continue experimenting on you.”

Simon nods beyond words in his gratitude.

Once he says yes he’s hustled from his cell to another one farther in the facility. No masks or chains this time. Maybe the doctors are coming to see how well he’s getting on. The thought makes his footsteps feel lighter even as he’s steered along between Victor and John. Two guards trail behind them ever at the ready.

Now he has something he can do to help not just himself but the other Undead. He has a purpose. But faced with his new cell - there’s not even a bed which is strange - he remembers that Amy and Kieren’s letters are still in his old one tucked away in his pillow case.

“Wait – John – my letters, they’re in my pillowcase.” Simon says even as the guards are forcibly pushing him into the cell. He turns and grasps the bars as the door is closed. The two don’t look so warm and inviting from this perspective. Victor doesn’t even turn to look at him just presents his back. But John - _John_ will listen to him. He has so far. A tight smile that doesn’t reach his eyes make Simon’s stomach drop.

“We’ll hold onto your letters for you, Simon.”

“Will I at least be able to write more letters?”

John shakes his head. “No Simon, you likely won’t have time. We’ll be keeping you quite busy from now on.” He turns to leave again and Simon’s desperate. He flattens himself to the bars and reaches out grasping his labcoat by the tips of his fingers for a moment. Any other time he would have been tazed for such an action.

“What about Kieren?”

John stumbles to a halt, shares a swift glance with Victor before he turns around approaching the cell with a hard look in his eyes. He swallows this wasn’t the reaction he was expecting.

“What about him?”

“I – I just wanted to know if I’ll be done by the time he’s back. He’ll wonder why I didn’t answer him over break...” His words fade to a weak mumble at John’s taken aback expression, “He said he would send me postcards from home.”

Victor steps up beside John.

“Whatever that boy promised you isn’t your concern anymore. He’ll be reassigned to another Undead if we are not finished when he returns. Our work is far more important than some drawings.”

Simon doesn’t know what to say in response to that. What can he when they speak the truth? These experiments could be the beginning of a cure for all Undead and here he’s worried about letters.

“Now Simon, put that boy from your mind. Frankly it’s troubling that you’ve become this attached to him at all. He’ll likely have no more contact with you once his class finishes here. Don’t think for a moment he’s your friend.”

\--

The break home is nice for the first couple of days. It’s great to have his room to himself. Brandon is a good roommate but there’s nothing like having alone time whenever he wants it. 

He and Dad watch the latest movies that have come out on DVD. Dad’s a sucker for new releases. Mum makes his favorite for dinner which is lamb and Jem complains about it as usual. The eye roll she sends Kieren tells him she’s only doing it for his entertainment.

Once dinner is done she tries to clear the plates away herself but Kieren insists on helping.“Mum, you’re making me feel like I’m a guest and not your son.” He teases making her smile and hug him.

“I just want you to have fun while you’re at home since you’re gone at school studying and working.”

He hugs her back tightly resting his cheek on top of her head. All that she does for him. There could be no better Mum in the world.

“Come on Kier! Aren’t we still going for our walk?” Jem’s voice calls out from the entry the clomping sound of putting her shoes on.

Mum steps back calling back. “Jem, you could come help your brother!”

The answer is the clatter of the front door shutting. She shakes her head as she rolls her eyes. Kieren just smiles and helps her clear away the table. Jem can wait a little while longer. By the time, he’s finished cleaning the dishes Jem’s come in twice to check on his progress ducking out when he tries to rope her into clean up.

“Love you mum, see you in a bit.” Kieren says kissing her cheek. Jem at once loops her arm around Kieren’s when they’re outside and begins a brisk walk down the street. He’s missed their evening walks. The Rising, HVF, and now with himself living at the college has made their time together non-existent.

The gravel beneath their feet crunches as they walk along the main street. The spice of autumn scented the chill air. Everything is familiar here from the homes to the ground beneath his feet. Yet it twinges that as soothing as this respite is Simon never gets away from his daily life in the treatment center. Before Kieren can start to brood Jem’s tugging on his arm.

“What’s got you so quiet, Kier? You’ve sounded different since you started school. Is it Rick? You haven’t mentioned him five times a day.” Did he dare to tell her the truth? He playfully wrapped her up in a hug nuzzling her hair.

“Aww have you missed me that much, Jemmy?” She laughs.

“Not at all! Now I get to have your room when you’re gone.” When they break apart Kieren grabs her hand and decides in that moment he needs to tell her. It feels wrong to say nothing to her of what’s happening to him at college. Not to mention how isolated he’s felt with only Amy and Simon to talk to. 

“You’re right, I have been different.” He admits hating that the playfulness at once drains from her expression. A swallow to loosen the knot in his throat. Once he tells Jem there’s no choice but to tell Mum and Dad once they’re home. Either he can or Jem will. Best to be quick now.

“My art class goes to a treatment center where the Undead are medicated. We draw the ones who aren’t rabid anymore,” He rushes to add while Jem’s face is still slack with disbelief. “We have a chance to draw them for medical textbooks and whichever portfolio is deemed the best goes on to the textbook company. It’s a lot of money, Jem. Our drawings are the very first of living PDS sufferers.”

The phrase _PDS sufferers_ is like a slap in the face. Jem steps back shaking her head eyes wide. Her hand drops from Kieren’s.

“Jem _please_ ,” He’s desperate to have her understand, to be on his side when so few are. “This is an amazing opportunity for me. Not just as a student but an artist.”

The shock twists and hardens into outrage on Jem’s face.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing Kieren? After what the HVF did during The Rising! What I did for you and Mum and Dad!” Her words sting deep and the guilt sizzles into anger.

“This isn’t about you Jem! This about me and my art! Not everything is about you and your HVF buddies killing everything in sight.” Kieren snaps reckless with anger. Jem draws herself up tall and rigid. Her eyes are glowering and glossy wet.

“Well you know what Kier? You can go fuck yourself! Go ahead and kill yourself for some stupid textbook drawings. What does it matter what Rick did to save us?”

That – that is too much. 

He turns and storms off. 

Right now, Kieren can’t resist spewing his frustration if he dares to open his mouth. His sister’s footsteps march off in the opposite direction – towards home – and even amidst his anger Kieren dreads going back. There’s no way she won’t spill the beans on what he’s been doing at university now. This isn’t the way he wanted their parents to find out about it. So to delay the inevitable confrontation of confusion, upset and shouting Kieren keeps walking the wind pinching at his ears and cheeks as he strides down the road.

Dad will be the one most pigheaded about this news besides Jem. He’ll order Kieren out of the class maybe even the university. Change that’s out of the blue or different from what he’s comfortable with has always brought out his Dad’s stubborn temperament. In that he and Jem are alike.

Mum might come around if he can persuade her with facts soon enough. However, even that is not guaranteed. She’ll be scared for his safety and it’s only been after repeated exposure to Simon and talking with him that Kieren himself has come to see that he is again human. Not some monster wearing the body and affecting the manners of a person. The majority of people here have only seen, heard or been attacked by rabids. She’ll be reluctant in the extreme to change her opinion until confronted with more PDS sufferers to show her otherwise.

His sigh issues a cloud of smoke into the air. Just a half hour more and he’ll go back to tell them.

Like Kieren predicted Dad is angry and blustering wanting to demand what kind of crackpot teacher the university is hiring, and Mum, concerned, throwing in her questions every so often when Dad takes a pause to breathe. Of course, he tries to explain everything, the treatment center, the obvious cruelty to the PDS sufferers, Simon, but his parents nor Jem will listen. Two hours later he’s retreated to his room and locked his door. Kieren hates the way the rest of his break passes in brittle silence broken only by polite distant conversation.

It’s not until he’s getting on the train to head back to school does Mum break away from Dad and Jem who are standing in the middle of the platform. Kieren turns to her and finds guilt gnaws at him to see her so worn and upset at this icy parting between father, son and sister.

“Kieren, sweetheart, promise you’ll be safe alright? Your father and Jem -,” She gives a rueful smile. “Well they’ll come around someday. And -,” Here she hesitates unsure of herself again. “Tell Simon hello for me and if there’s anything he might need.”

Kieren hugs her tightly before he has hop onto the train that has begun to slowly start to move. She sniffles and wipes at her eyes as she waves goodbye. The hurt tears at him that there’s no time to express his gratitude but there’s no doubt Mum understands. It’s a relief to be heading back to campus. Kieren might be a leper there but he has Amy on his side and Simon to see and talk with.

\--

He, Simon, was the first to respond on the metal cross. It’s why he’s been singled out for more experimentation.

 _When_ he devoured the living is irrelevant - the people are still so much a part of him no matter how much time has passed. The idea of them haunts him and all Simon wants is to be is alive again, to shed this monster skin that he never asked for. 

He thought he would be willing to do _anything_ to be a part of the living again. 

Bound once again to his metal cross he finds that he isn’t capable of the enormous sacrifice demanded in payment for another shot at life.

Without tears he weeps and begs them to stop. There’s no pain as they touch the exposed vertebra of his flayed open back, but the remembered breathlessness of terror still seizes his motionless lungs as he feels them pushing the skin further aside. Victor and John ignore him, murmuring to one another, their almost silence broken apart by his desperate pleas.

Afterwards, when they have sewed him up, Simon manages to look at himself in the one way window to see what they’ve done to him. What will Kieren think of him when he inevitably sees the disgusting mess? He can’t stand the humiliating thought of Kieren’s pity for what in hindsight was naive pipe dream.

The day before the students are due to return he’s placed back in his old cell. However, he’s not going to be with Kieren or any of the students. It’s been determined by someone that he needs solitary confinement for now. He curls up in his bed, slipping a hand into his pillowcase. 

The letters are gone. 

His body convulses with sobs. 

\--

Amy is at his door the moment he texts her he’s back.

“How are you, love? I’m sorry your Dad and Jem were such asses.” She murmurs hugging him tightly as soon as he left her in.

“They didn’t even try to understand, Amy. They just said Ms. Clay-Air must be mental and that – that Simon was just a disgusting creature.” Kieren swallows and presses his face to her shoulder. Amy strokes his hair. 

“What can I do? Soon the class is going to end and I doubt the guards or doctors will let me come in just to see Simon. ‘Oh, hello just popping in to talk with one of the PDS sufferers, no big deal’. This is so fucked!” Kieren rages breathing deeply into Amy’s shoulder. She smells nice like lime. It’s with effort he focuses his breathing and pulls himself back to more of an even keel. “Enough about me though. I haven’t heard hardly anything about you Amy since I started all this. How was your vacation? Please tell me you got to see your favorite uncle.”

True to form she does just as asked.

“Well Aunty Sherry, you know the one with too many bugs, started in on me Nan and uncle Barry wasn’t having any of that…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These last few chapters are getting hefty.


	6. Undressing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon is given back to Kieren but not without a heavy price to be paid in humiliation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Litost_ by X Ambassadors.

There’s no suspicion that the first day back at the treatment center will be any different than from the days before. Amy hugs him goodbye, the bus takes off and most everyone dozes on the early morning ride to place. It’s not until Kieren’s following Mary down hallways and not to Simon’s room does he wonder if something’s happened.

“Mary has Simon been moved?” Kieren asks as he looks around attempting to orientate himself. Downside of only ever going to one room he’s never been in any other part of the facility.

“Yep, so you’ll be doubling up. This other Undead’s known to bite. Don’t worry she’s not rabid. No point trying to talk with her though.”

Kieren frowns, concerned. Has Simon gotten in trouble or started reacting to the Neurotriptyline?

“Do you know when he’ll be back? I can’t start over on someone new I won’t have time to finish before the term ends.”

Mary shrugs. Not her problem, not her concern. 

Just as promised this new PDS sufferer is bound with a mask and not just that but chains connecting her wrists to her throat. Simon is the extraordinary case in this manner then. Why?

Kieren fidgets as he settles down to work too aware of the heavy silence. The weight presses down on him. A glance to his fellow classmate Carrie shows she’s pretending their sufferer is nothing more than an object to draw. Mechanically he sketches their sufferer, a little girl of ten with her legs cut off from below the knee. The excuse Carrie quietly whispers is that hunters bringing her in had not wanted to risk her being able to nimbly run and attack anyone else. What those hunters had done was an act of brutal cruelty.

The four hours are almost up. He’s made some headway but this late in the game there’s no way he’ll be able to do an entire portfolio on this new sufferer. So, he spends the last hour sketching for her. Heart beating rapidly, he tears out the drawing before sliding off the chair to his knees and in that fashion walks carefully towards the little girl.

“ _Kieren!_ ” Carrie hisses shocked but he ignores it. He holds up and out the small drawing he’s done of their sufferer. It’s not much but in it he’s given the girl back her legs with a pretty dress and a flower coronet in her hair.

“Hi, I’m Kieren, what’s your name? I thought maybe you’d like this drawing? It’s you. You’ve got very pretty hair like my friend Amy. Do you braid it yourself?” He softly asks stopping a few feet from her when the girl begins to hiss and shrink back. She’s no wild sufferer just terrified and cornered.

“My friend Amy braids her hair and it’s all the way down to here,” He motions to his lower back. The girl eyes him warily still scared but confused as to why he’s trying to be nice to her. “Can you tell me your name?”

A few seconds’ pass before she speaks voice muffled.

“April.”

Kieren smiles warmly and nods encouraged by this.

“That’s an awesome name. Want me to put ‘To April’ on your portrait?” He asks again giving her a better look at the drawing. Already she is uncurling from the wall curious to see it better. The chains clatter as April tries to move closer.

“Kieren, get away from her! She’s going to attack you!” Carrie whimpers on her feet and moving to get their guard.

“Carrie, stop!” Kieren orders sharply making April flinch back against the wall and Carrie come to a halt.

“Carrie,” He starts in a softer voice not wanting to scare April again. “Jesus Christ, Carrie, look at what’s been done to April. We’ve chained her down like a rabid, _mutilated a little girl_ for what? So, she can never run again?” Unbidden his voice breaks. When he swallows against his aching throat it’s to feel tears burn in his eyes. April is looking at him with wide eyes bluish white irises taking in his display of emotion for her.

“They ate people. The hunters were keeping this sufferer from attacking anymore people.” Carrie hisses back.

Kieren shakes his head with a disbelieving snort swiping at his eyes. There’s no getting through to his classmate.

“I like your picture. It’s really pretty.” April compliments him even with the muzzle in place. He gives her a weak smile.

“Thank you, April. You can have it if you want. I drew it for you to keep.” She blinks at him taken aback before her gaze strays longingly towards the paper.

“Can you make one of Mama too? And – and send one to Aunt Z?” Mumbling this last request. He nods and smiles wanting to reassure her.

“I’ll try, April. I’m guessing your mum is here? Would she know where Aunt Z lives?”

April nods quickly.

“When Aunt Z came to see us me and Mama got to see her together. She told us both where she lives now. I miss Aunt Z.”

“I bet you do. Don’t worry I’m going to try to talk with your mum soon. In return would you make sure my friend Simon is okay? For some reason he didn’t show up today and I’m worried about him.” 

At this April smiles and nods vigorously. “I can do that!” 

Relief loosens the anxiety gripping his lungs at hearing that. 

“Thank you, April.” A knock on the door and Carrie snatching up her stuff signals the end of their conversation. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” 

The little girl smiles and waves. 

\--

Although congregating in groups is never allowed to happen news still travels through this beehive at high speed. It isn’t more than an hour later when the art students have left that Simon’s roommate Stamford returns with awe in his eyes.

“Simon, you have one shocking student there. Kieren Walker, isn’t it?” Stamford asks after the guard has locked them in and left. Their stupidity is unbelievable to think the medicated Undead don’t talk with one another every chance they can get. 

Simon looks over from where he’s been lying on his bed looking at the ceiling. He’s done that ever since the doctors brought him back. Since he discovered the theft of his letters.

“What do you mean? Kieren’s no more mine than you are to your student.”

“Don’t be silly, Simon. That boy tries to connect with you, to treat you like one of the living, doesn’t he?”

“And how would you know that?” Here Stamford chuckles and Simon is concerned. What has Kieren done to set himself so far apart that the other Undead are noticing him?

“For the fact, he did the same with little April. He’s been reassigned to her while the doctors decide if they have any more use for you.”

This has Simon sitting upright. What is the point of self-pity when Kieren is just asking for trouble and bringing worst down upon their heads here at the center? Stamford smiles. He knew talk of Kieren would pull Simon from his lassitude. This young man brings a spark back not just to Simon but now to the rest of them.

“What did he do?”

Stamford settles himself on his bed. Really this Kieren Walker has prodded the Undead to do more thinking then when they first awoke from the dead. Simon has not kept his fingers to the pulse of this place. He has turned his eyes and ears away from their signal speech to one another in his despair. Stamford knows it’s because of the doctors that his friend hasn’t been seen for three weeks. The guards are mindlessly cruel and uncaring, but the doctors, they are ruthless.

“Nothing radical,” He assures. “Just spoke for a couple of minutes to her about himself, offering the sketch he drew. April was pleased that he complimented her hair.”

“And?”

Stamford smiles.

“And offered to write to April’s aunt, Geraldine’s sister, who has been trying to get them both released to her. Said he would do a portrait of Geraldine for April to have.” He pauses. “Even asked April if she’d make sure you’re okay.”

By the end, Simon is shaking his head rubbing his palms against his forehead. Curious the habits they keep even when their bodies can no longer feel things such as a tension headache. Still the gestures of habit are a comfort.

“Kieren is going to hurt April and Geraldine with this. He’ll cause unrest amongst the others who are going to want to talk to their families to get them released.”

“And why should they not?”

“Because we’re put in here to be isolated! Because – we’re supposed to give up.” He whispers. Bile surges up his throat burning when he swallows it down. He’s allowed himself to be persuaded to shun life and instead been taught to want this prison. A monster kept safely with its fellows. 

How is he supposed to even react to the matter of Kieren trying to check in that he’s okay? Here just a couple of months ago he could barely stand to look at him and now he’s trying to get others to report back. Guilt writhes in his chest. He’s relieved that Kieren doesn’t think he’s being slighted. Instead he’s concerned by Simon’s silence and disappearance. His eyes burn with unshed tears. No. He’s not going to get emotional over the fact someone is treating him like a lost friend. If he gives in now the tears will never stop. 

Simon gets to his feet Stamford watching from his bed. There’s nothing for it he needs to talk to John now. Either John puts him back with Kieren or things in the center are going to deteriorate quickly. There’s no contest over what John and Victor will pick. Unrest amongst their subjects or pacify a meager student’s wanting of Simon as his drawing model.

\--

As soon as Mary is at his side she demands. “Today you need him without his shirt on, right?”

Kieren blinks and actually looks over at her. “Simon? I thought I was still working with April. Is he okay now?”

Mary waves aside his questions as she continues on towards the assigned drawing room. The set of her shoulders speak of tension. “He’s fine enough to be your model again. The doctors have decided in the interest of full details on them you’ll be drawing them naked from now on.” A disgusted snort. “As if you’d want to look at the ugly things. But orders are orders. I’ll be going in with you. He’s touchy about his clothes for some stupid reason.” 

What entails is a disaster.

“Take off your shirt.” Mary snaps at Simon when they enter the room Kieren following behind. He’s on his feet at once backing away towards the wall. Simon shakes his head gripping the hem of his thin regulation shirt.

Kieren’s taken aback. He’s like a caged animal at the order. 

“I wasn’t told I would need to remove my clothes.” Simon retorts wide eyes darting between her and him pleading. Nausea grips Kieren’s stomach. This is wrong. Something is off.

What’s clear is that Simon’s question is not the right answer. 

Mary’s mouth thins in impatience. Before he can tell her that it’s fine, it isn’t important, she takes out the baton on her belt.

“I told you to remove your shirt, Monroe.” Simon again shakes his head knuckles white around the fabric. She reaches for Simon as he scrambles sideways her fingers instead clawing at the material.

“Please, it’s alright, he doesn’t need to!” Kieren yelps. He darts around her to block Simon his arms held out in front of him to try and ward her off. Cold hands clenching onto his biceps from behind has him freezing.

“Move!” She snarls as she comes towards them baton forgotten in favor of a taser. But even in the face of being shocked Kieren’s muscles aren’t reacting.

She rips him away from Simon in the same moment setting off the taser into Simon’s abdomen. A pained grunt as his body seizes up before he crumples to the ground. In a smooth motion telling of routine Mary quickly slips the loop of a catchpole around his throat.

“I’m sorry you’re going to have to draw someone else today.” She states as she keeps Simon pinned to the floor on his back pressing her ear piece to call for backup. Kieren is too shocked by the inhumane equipment - the undignified position to move. Moments later running footsteps of heavy boots sound across the cement floors before more guards crowd into the room. 

One herds Kieren backwards out of the room ignoring his shouts to Simon, the others helping to drag the unconscious Simon after them. (He finds out later that PDS sufferers’ brains no longer generate their own electricity. So without the medicine such things as tasers overload their systems to the point to unconsciousness).

Quickly he’s moved to another room, his supplies at his heels, where a fellow classmate is sketching a chained PDS sufferer. While certainly he and Simon didn’t shared their innermost secrets with one another, the atmosphere between them was far more than the icy silence maintained here. 

Working with this new sufferer it’s clear his classmate feels no such inclination keeping silent unless it’s to tell the woman to rearrange herself or change positions. The atmosphere in here is noticeably tense, neither sure what the other will do. This time he feels no compulsion to speak or reach out to their model. Even so the sufferer keeps her eyes on him the entire time. It makes him uncomfortable not because of her eyes, but the fact that his classmate will notice. If there’s one thing Kieren wants less of it’s to be singled out anymore from his fellow students here. 

On the bus ride back Kieren remembers the folder of information on Simon. If he wanted he could look at it. Maybe it would reveal why Simon is so skittish to take off his shirt? Or did something happen during his absence on Tuesday? His stomach drops with a sickening lurch. No- something must have happened over winter break. He’s been so wrapped up over the fall out with Dad and Jem, he didn’t give a thought to the fact he didn’t get a letter from Simon all winter break. 

However the idea of snooping through his paper life makes Kieren even more opposed to it than he was in the beginning. What right does he have to look into this man’s life just to satisfy his own curiosity? None at all. Kieren watches the frosted ground outside his window roll by thoughts lingering on Simon.

“They treated him like an animal, Amy.” He clenches his jaw as he retells her the incident. Even if he had chosen not to say anything his fellow classmates would be spreading the rumor soon enough that Simon had tried to attack Kieren and that’s why he was transferred. If he’s lucky there won’t be any mention that his new model stared at him throughout their entire session.

Kieren wants Amy to know the truth and not the venomous gossip. 

“Handsome.” She sadly murmurs leaning into his side winding her arm around his waist. There’s really nothing more to be said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter will be small in comparison to everything. Thank you for those who have read this fic. I hope you've enjoyed it.


	7. Redemption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally Simon finds true happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Staying_ by Koda.

The next day Kieren is ushered to their regular room as if nothing’s happened. He opens the door to the sight of Simon shackled by one wrist to the wall with no shirt on. Two dark splotches on his cheeks that look too much like handprints tell of the struggle to put him there. He sits with his back pressed tight against the wall face closed off. It shouldn’t matter but it’s killing him to see Simon like this. Back to nothing more than a dangerous, vicious animal. 

“If I give you my jumper would you let me see the entry point for the medication?” Kieren offers standing by the table. He doesn’t want to invade Simon’s personal space not after his privacy has already been violated. Whatever Simon doesn’t want him to see is clearly no small thing. Perhaps it’s a gaping wound from his time of as a rabid. 

Simon beckons him over nodding in a tired fashion. At once Kieren settles close removing his hoodie and passing it over. The chain makes it awkward to put on but soon enough Simon’s dressed his back covered. 

“What happened by the way? Why did they force you to undress like that? I thought you were model PDS sufferer that’s what Mary told me when I first came here.” He inquires. There’s so many pieces he’s missing to what’s going on. It frightens Kieren this change to Simon. Of course, he’s always been solemn, but never with this despondency to his entire being.

“This is John and Victor’s way of putting me in my place. Humiliating me for demanding that I be put back with you.” 

Kieren’s mouth falls open eyes wide. 

“You _asked_?” Does that mean you didn’t want to be my model anymore?” He leans back as if he’s been smacked. 

Simon shakes his head. “No. It was the doctors who kept me from you. Although...I didn’t fight them too hard.” He swallows. “While you were gone over break they wanted to do more experiments. They said I could help my brethren by continuing to let them explore. Instead they tore me open and when they finished sewed me up with hideous stitches. 

Simon won’t look at him.

“I was ashamed because of my naivety. How desperate I was to believe in their promises. That I could be human again.”

Kieren’s voice cracks, “ _Simon_. Jesus Christ.” He swallows. “Can - can I hug you or hold your hand or _something_? To hold onto that through the entire break.” 

Simon holds open his arms and wraps him up when he moves in close. Although he can’t feel how warm he is Kieren hopes the solidness of his body is just as comforting. He presses his face into Kieren’s bare shoulder failing to hold back his tears. How desperately he’s tried to forget the cravings of basic physical affection. 

“Victor and John wouldn’t let me write to you. They took your letters even the origami animals. I found out when I was put back in my room. That was the final blow to not have even one thing left of you or Amy. As if you’d never been here.” 

Kieren doesn’t reply but simply rubs his back. When they eventually break apart in the space between their bodies a tenderness has blossomed. It’s not even a second thought for Kieren now to hold Simon’s hands. Finally he must let go to get started on drawing. Neither one can bring themselves to speak after that. Instead when Kieren takes breaks to rest to keep from cramping up Simon holds on tightly to his hands. 

\--

The end of the school year and deadline are fast approaching. Consequently so is his time with Simon. Today is his last day here at the treatment center. 

Now when they meet he’s unafraid to hug Simon. He _wants_ to do so. The pace of familiarity between them has been dizzying. Granted that’s no surprise when they both have suffered such anguish. But it’s not only that. Simon has opened himself up. He’s trusted him, Kieren, with his life story, and his death.

Currently they’re settled on the floor holding hands. He’s gotten enough work done to afford the time to be affectionate. How undemanding Simon still is when he has every right to demand and take from everyone here. 

“Do you know when you’ll be released?” 

Simon’s pale eyes speak his doubt. Kieren squeezes Simon’s hands more as a comfort to himself than anything. He refuses to entertain the thought that he may never leave.

“But you’ve been a model PDS sufferer! Which sounds so wrong but you know what I mean.” 

“Yes I do, Kieren,” Simon gives him a sad smile his gaze dropping to their joined hands. “But I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that. I’m here until the doctors decide they’ve finished with me. You’ve made it bearable. Amy too. Thank for what you both have done for me. I’ll never forget it.” 

Kieren’s embarrassed by the tears that rush to his eyes. No, he hasn’t done near enough to justify such thanks. Coldness soothes the heat that’s overtaken his face when Simon caresses his cheek. 

“Don’t cry for me, sweetheart. I have more now than I ever had before or after my death. Besides now you can go back to a normal life.” Simon can’t hide the tremble to his lips when he presses them tight as if it hurt to say that. At this point Kieren doesn’t care what the guards will do if they catch them he pulls Simon into a hug. They hold each other in this way telling stories of their childhood until the call for lunch. 

\--

The drive is long to the boarding house as it’s set in a remote location. Even when medicated and deemed rehabilitated enough for society still there lingers wariness towards PDS sufferers. It takes three hours but worth every minute for the look of complete shock on Simon’s face. 

Kieren laughs through his tears rushing to Simon’s side when he sags to the ground. Just three months ago it was assured they’d never see each other again, that Simon would never be freed and now here he is. Here they are together again. 

“Kieren?” Simon’s incredulous his mouth hanging wide eyes blinking in disbelief. He’s not put on his mousse or his contacts and this comforts Kieren.

“I thought you might want someone when you - the boarding house-,” Kieren swallows back the rest of his tears. He doesn’t want to say _released_ like Simon’s a prisoner or tamed animal even as he’s been treated like both.

“I got a few things.” He does manage to say holding out the large soft lump of tissue paper. Simon is taken aback by the presentation of a gift but accepts it turning it over to carefully rip the paper from the messy tape job. Freed of its constraints the arms of a black cable knit jumper slither and hang down. 

“They never dressed you properly and after...after what happened I thought a jumper would be perfect. You’ll feel safe and cozy.”

Simon seems like he’s struggling for air.

“Kieren-,”

“Amy’s waiting too she’s in the car though. Give us our time she said. By the way her parents are renting an apartment for her in London! She said you can come live with her since they never visit anyways. Isn’t that great? We can all be together. You can finally meet her in person.” 

Finally Simon has to hold up his hand to quiet him. 

“Kieren, you understand this isn’t going to be fun. You’re going to be attacked and threatened for being around me. Does Amy understand this?”

He nods the smile and cheeriness draining away.

“I understand, Simon. How could I not? I spent the entire school year being shunned for just coming to treatment center. But I don’t want you to be alone anymore. Neither does Amy for the matter. We both love you. We want you to have a new life with us.” 

Kieren swallows hard against the tightness clutching at his throat. This isn’t the time for crying not when they should be already celebrating his new life. It’s clear Simon is bowled over by this open declaration of love from not just one but two people who have only ever known him as the Undead.

“You truly mean that?”

“I do. I love you, Simon Arthur Monroe. Now come on, Amy’s going to start honking if we don’t leave. She’s been waiting all year to meet you.” 

As if on cue honks start issuing outside. Both of them laugh as Simon takes Kieren’s hand letting himself be pulled to his feet. The perfect start to their lives together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the end! It's surreal to be finished with this big project! Thank you all to have read my baby to the end. Hopefully you enjoyed the music selection too. Great fun to pick out new songs for each chapter.

**Author's Note:**

> This has been an AU that's rattled around in my brain for the past three years. At this point I don't even remember what sparked it but I've been fiddling with this fic for so long I couldn't give it up at this point. So after three years of agonizing over it, getting motivation and losing it for months at a time, despairing that I'd ever finish at long last my baby sees the light of day.


End file.
